


Risky Business

by Moriarty_assbutt1



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Blackfrost - Freeform, F/M, I never know what to tag here..., Lost of Asgard, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Thor: The Dark World
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-13 00:45:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2130678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moriarty_assbutt1/pseuds/Moriarty_assbutt1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe it's her current state of unemployment thats driving her to do this, or maybe it's just her intense curiosity on the matter. She's not afraid of the lie, it entices her actually. After all, Natasha Romanov always did love secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Risky Business

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Hello!   
> I'm pretty excited for this fic, and actually have had this idea for about half a year... so I finally got it written down. I think I was left a bit traumatised after Broken Crown, so I've taken my time with publishing this!   
> I'm experimenting with a new writing style, not exactly new for me, as I've written a few original stories in this style, but never a fanfic. I guess I'm still finding my feet with what style I think works best for me, even with my first two fics, they were written in first person, and trust me I don't think I'll be using that style any more...  
> Anyways, I'd love to know what you think about that, and just the chapter as a whole, so reviews would be absolutely peachy.  
> Ta! x

“I’m sexually frustrated.” Natasha says, wiping her eyes tiredly.

A sly smile works it’s way across Clint’s lips. “I can fix that.” She sets down her binoculars and thumps him playfully on the arm.

“In your dreams, Barton.” She sniggers and picks up a donut from its packaging. “But really, I’m having a serious problem.”

“What happened to that guy from the auto repairs?” He frowns, knowing he still has a lot to catch up on.

“I ended it.” She chews on her donut, pensively watching their targets. “He was good in bed and all, but I never really enjoyed his company, you know? Plus, I’m pretty sure he was more interested in my corvette than he was with me, so naturally, after it was wrecked we… lost contact.”

“That’s bullshit.” Clint mutters. “The guy’s probably got something loose in his brain, you’re awesome.”

“N’aww.” She mocks. “You’re so sweet to me.”

“Damn right.”

She brushes the sugar from her hands and turns to him curiously, watching the way he keeps his attention fixed on the targets in front of them. They lay on the ground, their fronts damp from dew and mud, as they watch three supposed criminals sitting on the bonnet of an old 1969 maroon mustang. They laugh and sip beers together, and to anyone they could just look like a pretentious gang of friends catching up on the hood of a car, who would know that they were three of the governments most wanted criminals. She begins to wonder if Fury had sent her the correct information, and wishes she could have asked him more, because seriously, watching these guys is tedious work. But that’s just the way it goes from now on, SHIELD is underground, with Fury god knows where and sending coordinates to Natasha if she’s ever feeling a bit bored of unemployment. She likes that he trusts her to check out any of his new leads, but it grinds her that he refuses to give her his location, a little face to face communication would be nice.

Nowadays she mostly sits around in her apartment reading, and if she’s feeling especially bored, she’ll go visit Bruce and Tony in the ‘Avengers Tower’, where they work tirelessly on inventions. Sometimes it’s just therapeutic for her to watch other people get their hands dirty, to imagine herself doing something similar. Sometimes, if Tony’s feeling generous, or if Bruce is feeling a little less precautious, they’ll let her help out. She longs for those moments.

She watches the way Clint stares at them, completely focused, his jaw tense from nerves, probably because, like her, he’s been out of a job for some time, and getting back into the field after a vacation always makes you feel a little out of practice. Except he’s been on ‘vacation’ for a while, longer than she has.

“But what do you know about any of this.” She smirks. “You’ve got that waitress from the café down on sixth. How’s that going by the way?”

“Well, when you don’t talk to someone for a good twelve months, things kind of go south relationship-wise.” Clint says with bitterness and shakes his head. “We went on a date last Monday, things were a little uncomfortable. But I guess she bought my story about my job transferring me to Japan for a year.”

“Really?” She laughs. “Because I thought that was the worst cover you’ve ever come up with.”

“Yeah, well I have been in recovery for over a year, Tash. Being out of the field has kind of made me a bit rusty with those sort of things.” Clint stiffens and sighs. “I don’t know if I’m even ready to be here.”

“Hey.” Natasha shoves him lightly. She knows he’d been hiding his anxiety in front of her, and if she was honest, she would have been happy to let him stay another few months in the recovery facility he’d been staying in. But the nurses had insisted he was ready to leave, and re-entrance into normal life would help him forget about the time a god took over his brain, but she doesn’t even know what ‘normal life is.’ It’s not like the nurses don’t know his situation, Clint had been in a SHIELD facility after all, one of the few that hadn’t been infiltrated by HYDRA. But she thinks that maybe he just needs some time to relax, to get back to his dusty old apartment and rest, read or watch shitty TV. He had done so at the beginning of his return, but so much so that Natasha became aware that he was turning into a bit of a hermit. “Don’t be like that. This is your first mission after everything went down, and it’s just like old times! You used to love doing stakeouts.”

“That was before we had to fight aliens from outer space.” She looks at him with concern. He shouldn’t be thinking too much about all that alien crap, and he knows that, since last time he dwelled on the idea of Loki he went into a full blown panic attack. But she won’t say anything, she has the grace to know that it’s embarrassing for him, one of SHIELD’s best agents getting panicked and sweaty every time he see’s a picture of ET. “Everything’s different now. I come back to find out that SHIELD’s gone underground, HYDRA’s back? I hate it, I hate feeling out of the loop.”

“Sorry I didn’t come play monopoly and have a cosy little catch up with you in therapy,” She returns with irritation in her voice. “I was a little preoccupied by getting shot at by my brainwashed ex-boyfriend.”

He quietened then, bristling beside her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask about that.”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Do they know where he is? Rogers told me he got away, but he was pretty quiet about it all.”

“Fury told me they’re keeping a look out for any sightings.” She murmurs. “My guess is he’s keeping himself to himself, staying hidden, adjusting to everything if what Steve says is true, if his memories really are coming back to him. In which case, I’m screwed.”

They fall back into silence, Clint picks up another donut and chews quietly beside her. She sighs, knowing that she has to tell him at some point, the middle of a stakeout may not be the best time to do it, but who knows? Maybe it’ll make him perk up at little.

“Speaking of being out of the loop.” She says, breaking the silence. She tears her gaze from the men on the car to face Clint, he looks at her expectantly, donut powder tracing his lips.

“What?”

“Thor’s back.” She states, Clint’s eyes widen a little, and she knows what he’s thinking. ‘Did Loki come with him?’ “There was some… trouble in London a couple of months back, he and Jane Foster managed to sort it out, Selvig was there, he’s doing alright as well.”

“What are trying to tell me, Nat?” His voice is tense, nervous, and she knows she has to tread lightly if she wants him to remain in his current state of sanity. She begins to regret telling him anything, fearing he might give away their positions to their targets, but she can’t go back now, he’ll only want answers.

“He came up to Manhattan last week with Jane and her friend, he’s been living on Earth with them apparently. He told us… I mean we were all pretty surprised…”

“What?”

“Loki’s dead, Clint. He’s gone.” She studies his expression, watches the way the muscles in his face relax, his lips part open slightly and his eyes flutter shut. A long drawn out exhale passes his lips, like a breath of relief, a weight being lifted from his shoulders.

“He’s really gone?”

“Gone. Finished. Deceased.” She smiles as she watches him relax, running his hand through his sandy blonde hair.

“So I guess Stark owes you that five hundred dollars.” He laughs and faces her. His eyes are watery, and no doubt this is the news he’s been waiting for, because he’ll no longer have to double check his apartment each night before he goes to bed, he won’t flinch at the sound of lightning, and he’ll stop obsessively avoiding the colour green.

“Nah, I told him to keep it. It didn’t seem right.” She says quietly, anticipating Clint’s remark. She can see him in her peripheral, staring at her in bewilderment.

“He doesn’t deserve any sympathy, Tash.” She can hear the concern in his voice, the anger at the situation and the worry that Natasha may have gone soft.

“The bet was that the Asgardian’s would execute him, but they didn’t, they just locked him up to rot. Loki died in combat, saving Thor’s life.” Natasha shakes her head, just as confused by the news as the others had been, who’d have thought Loki capable of such selflessness. That crazed weirdo in Stuttgart suddenly turned hero? Not likely. “I dunno, Thor seemed pretty torn up about it. Apparently they just left him to waste away on some other realm.”

“Good.” Clint sneers, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“A little harsh, Barton.”

“Are you defending him?” Clint asks, his voice raised a little too much. Natasha hits him, pressing him down, chest against the grass to keep him from view. “Suddenly you care about the creep?”

“No.” She hisses angrily. Their targets may look like and innocent group of guys, but she’s not taking any chances, and if they’re spotted, they’re screwed. “It’s just that when I killed hundreds of civilians, burned down hospitals and killed fucking children, you managed to forgive and forget all of that! So why can’t you get over this guy, Clint?”

“It’s different. It’s personal.”

“Well as agents we’re not supposed to let the personal issues affect us. So you stop acting like a jerk and let Thor mourn his little brother as if he were a hero.”

“Yes ma’am.” Clint smirks as Natasha releases him to brush some hair from her face. She turns back to their targets, her eyes widening as she mutters a curse.

“Where the fuck have they gone?”

The car is still parked in the field, but the men have gone, their beer bottles scattered on the floor. She whips her head around to find them but the coast is clear. Clint curses behind her where he gathers his quiver and bow. She reaches for her gun and cocks it, eyes locked on the car.

“Should we check it out?” Clint asks nervously. It had been a while since he’d had his adrenaline pumping like this, even if it was just an abandoned car.

She answers him by rising from her crouched position and stepping gingerly through the underbrush. He follows quietly, eyes scanning the area, but it looks like the men have gone, so why would they leave their car?

They reach the car, and Nat kicks a beer bottle, finding it half empty and spilling over her boot. She chews her lip, her focus latching onto the empty car. “You didn’t see them go?”

“Too busy getting a lecture from you.”

“I guess I chose the wrong time to tell you.” She laughs, turning to smirk at him. Clint smiles back at her, but it’s then that he notices a small red light, just under her chin, flashing from a crack in the car’s boot.

He doesn’t hesitate to lift the cars trunk, exchanging a curious glance with Natasha at the unlocked door. He lifts it fully and stifles a gasp, Natasha runs to his side to see a body, broken and bloody, so mutilated any recognisable features are completely ruined. A large red sphere is buried in his chest, flashing in a metronome rhythm, soon the light begins to speed up and they don’t bother asking any questions, turning sharply on their heels to run in the other direction. The bomb is silent, they have no way of knowing when the impact will take place, until they hear it, a loud crack, like thunder. Natasha feels Clint’s body collide with hers, he pins her down as everything goes red, deep, crimson red, shielding her as he screams. Then the redness turns to darkness.

~X~

Natasha wakes to the smell of burning, her cheeks feel hot and her skin tingles in an uncomfortable fashion. Her eyes flutter open and she first notices that it’s darker, later into the night, but the flames from the burning car help her to see. She clumsily moves to stand, her knees weaker than she would like them to be in this situation. There’s something by her feet, something warm, heavy when she tries to kick it over. She blinks away the tears that the burning smoke forms in her eyes and bends to push at the form lying beside her. It’s Clint, she can’t see him fully, but she knows. From what she can discern, he’s burned, badly.

“Barton.” She shakes him. “Clint!” He doesn’t move, doesn’t make a sound. She pats her hands around his body, searching for his wrist or his neck, it’s too smoky to see anything, and she’s pretty sure her vision is temporarily fucked up. Her hands find his, and she smoothes her index finger over his wrist, finding a pulse, albeit a weak one. “Okay.” She mutters. “Okay, this is gonna be okay.” She’s reassuring herself more than anyone, partly because no one else is even listening.

Hands still shaking from the impact, she reaches for her phone. The clock says it’s ten minutes to midnight, she’d been lying there for a good two hours, and in that time Clint could have easily slipped away. Her fingers find the right buttons with difficulty, but she eventually calls the right number, doing so with resentment, though she knew it was necessary.

“Stark.” She shouts, her voice raspier than normal, but she’s relieved when he picks up.

“Romanov?”

“I need your help with something.”

“It’s late.” He sounds sleepy, probably a little drunk.

“It’s Barton, he’s hurt.” She says this as she looks over her shoulder, back to the body sprawled on the floor. “I need you to come pick us up.”

Her car’s just up the hill, but she knows her body is too weak at the moment to lug a completely unconscious Clint that far, and it would be faster to get to medicine via an Iron Man suit.

She gives him her coordinates and hangs up, moving back to crouch beside her partner. The smoke is clearing now, and as she turns him over she see’s the marks on his face, the burns, the cuts from the debris that flew at them. She cups her hands around his cheeks, he looks worse than she’s ever seen him before, and she’d seen him shot at, under mind control and even strapped up in a mental institution, but this? She can barely recognise him.

“Hang on in there, Barton.” She whispers. “I’m not letting you go this easy.”

~X~

Stark arrives after what Natasha presumed to be about ten minutes, Thor follows in tow, suited up with Mjolnir grasped tightly in his fist. She stands to greet them, her knees shaky, and as the adrenaline begins to fade from her system she feels her body begin to weaken all the more. Thor apparently see’s this and quickly wraps an arm around her waist, looking to Tony with a look of concern. Stark doesn’t ask any questions, just lands by Clint’s body and scoops him up into his metal arms. He gives one last look at the site, Thor does too, and Natasha can see the horror on his features. The once green and scenic field now left in burning ruins.

Thor clutches her tightly to him as he swings his hammer and begins to lift from the ground. Her eyelids grow heavy, her arms drop from where they held Thor’s neck. She see’s Clint slumped over Starks shoulder, they launch from the ground, and then she fades away.

~X~

The room is white. Sterile, pure, white. She’s conscious of an IV drip in her arm and she groans, feeling almost chained to her bed with the thing. She could easily pull it out, but god knows what they’re pumping into her, maybe it’ll cure the headache that pounds at her skull. She feels a hand on hers and looks up. Steve smiles down at her and says something unintelligible, she lifts her head, which proves only to hurt more, but she remains in the position, as if getting close will allow her to hear him more clearly. She’s aware that her vision is blurred, and the whole room seems to waver around her. The worry of losing her senses altogether must show on her face, because Steve leans in, his brows furrowed as he smoothes some hair from her face, and says something she supposes is meant to be reassuring. She feels herself drift away again, Steve’s muffled voice in the background of her mind says something slow and seemingly calming.

She wakes again, this time the room is dark, she cranes her neck to look around, but it’s empty too. She feels somewhat stronger, still rather fragile, but she feels she has the strength to stand, perhaps that iv is actually doing some good. She can actually hear things now the sirens of police cars outside, the rustle of her bed sheets when she moves. With a grunt, she lifts herself up with her arms, and swings her legs so that they dangle over the side of her hospital bed. She wants answers, and she’s not going to wait until morning, or when Steve returns. She blinks, thinking back on the memory questioningly. It seemed so surreal to think back on, so blurry in her mind, she wonders if it even happened or if she dreamt him up.

Natasha picks out the iv drip, cringing as she does so, and heaves herself from her bed, already she can feel herself growing weary, her legs stagger as she walks. She finds a dressing gown hooked on the back of the door, and wraps it around herself before she ventures outside. She’s in Stark Tower, she knows that much, she recognises the fancy artwork that lines the walls in the dimly lit hall. It’s a relief that she’s not in a hospital, especially as the impact from the bomb definitely wasn’t something that ordinary doctors would understand, Clint’s burns… weren’t normal. Maybe if SHIELD still had their medical centre still up and running they’d be okay, but she knows Stark would have probably called Banner in anyway, and he would have done everything he could, even if it wasn’t enough.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she hears their voices, whispers and murmurs at the end of the corridor. Natasha makes her way to the room from which she hears them speak and pushes the door ajar with a weak hand. The voices stop as soon as the door begins to move, and she curses Stark for having such heavy doors, she pushes harder, all of a sudden it opens wide as if on it’s own accord, but then she see’s Thor holding it open for her, his brows set in a firm frown, almost guiltily.

“How are you faring?” He asks as she walks further into the room, she ignores him and looks around. They’re all there, Stark, Rogers, Thor, Banner, and even Sam Wilson. She suddenly feels small, fragile, in a room full of ‘superheroes’ that she knew had just been discussing her. She’s never considered herself a hero, nor even super, she’s an assassin. So why do they welcome her like their own? Sam throws an arm around her and squeezes, it hurts but she doesn’t complain.

“Where’s Clint?” She asks finally, her voice is gravelly and broken.

“He’s still unconscious.” Banner replies quietly, he’s holding his glasses in his hands, fiddling with them the way he does when he’s thinking deeply. “He’s in bad shape, Tash.”

“We need you to tell us what happened.” Steve interjects, and as he says that Sam begins to guide her to a chair, knowing it would be a long story.

“Is he going to be okay?” She asks, gently pulling herself from Sam’s arms.

“We don’t know.” Bruce sighs and rubs his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. “That’s why we need you to tell us.”

“I scanned the area as best as I could, red.” Stark, who has been unusually quiet, steps forward, offering her a drink that Bruce knocks away, shaking his head and muttering something about antibiotics. “The place looks pretty messed up, like nothing I’ve ever seen a bomb do, if this was a bomb. It looked almost… otherworldly.”

“It was.” She replies, wishing she could have the drink he had offered her. “But it was… different.”

"How was it different?" Banner takes a seat across from her, his brows furrowed as he watches her for an answer.

 

"We were in the heart of the storm, so you'd think we'd be decimated." She shakes her head, she's still shaken from it all. "I thought that was it, I thought it was the end, but it only hit what got in it's way, like it was flying over us, not through us, y'know?"

 

“I saw the pictures of the wreckage.” Steve puts in. “It looked like the damage of a HYDRA weapon to me.”

 

Bruce nods and fiddles with his glasses, turning back to Natasha. "When Stark brought you in your eyes were... Damaged, not just from the smoke, you said you couldn't see."

 

"I was awake?"

 

"You were delirious, but you spoke. You said something about a body, about everything being red."

 

She blinks, curling in on herself as she remembers the blast, bright, crimson red light, painting the landscape with its colour. Everything was red, that had been that last thing she'd seen.

 

"There was a body in the trunk of the car, the bomb was... Stuck to him, like it had been built into his chest." She notices Stark cringe and look down at where the arc reactor had once sat on his chest. "We ran from the blast, but we knew we wouldn't have time. Clint threw himself over me just in time, then everything just went red." She looks up at them, hoping that explanation was good enough. Bruce leans back on his chair, considering her words.

 

"There was nothing else? Nothing peculiar?" He questions, leaning forward.

 

"I can write you a briefing if you want to get all Nick Fury about this." She hears Stark snigger behind her, but Steve merely sighs. Bruce's lips are set in a firm line as he watches her. “It all seemed pretty peculiar.”

 

"Natasha, none of our medicine is working."

 

"What do you mean? I feel fine." She’s lying, she doesn’t feel fine, even just sitting she feels weak, but considering she’s not lying unconscious in her bed, she’s guessing whatever they dosed her with is working pretty damn well. She was just in the middle of an explosion after all.

  
"But Clint isn't, and you've got the super-soldier serum in your blood, you’re healing, but not properly." Steve informs her with a look of sadness, as though it’s already a lost cause. “That’s why we need you to tell us about the explosion. We already know that it’s not normal, maybe if we can discover what…stuff...”

 

“Chemicals.” Bruce interjects and Steve nods.

 

“Maybe if we can discover what chemicals were in the bomb, we can understand how it’s taken an effect on you and how it can be cured.”

 

Natasha looks to Thor, he’s been quiet for such a loud man, and he looks back at her, almost sheepishly, like he doesn’t know where to look. “Maybe Asgard has the medicine.” She looks him right in the eye as she speaks, watching as he looks back at her with surprise.

 

“Why would you think that?” Steve asks.

 

“You’re far more advanced over there, right?” Thor nods at her words, albeit with a rather bemused expression. “Maybe you know what this is, maybe you can help Clint.”

 

“We don’t know that, red.” Stark says softly, and she almost doesn’t recognise his voice it’s so different from his sharp, witty ways of speaking. “You and Clint are probably too weak for the transport there.”

 

“The Bifrost can sometimes be painful for a Midgardian’s first trip, but I think they should be able make the journey, even in their condition.” Thor’s information receives a few shakes of heads and sighs, the god looks down as if he shouldn’t have said anything in the first place.

 

“But what if you get there and it was all for naught?” Steve throws another obstacle in the works and Natasha rolls her eyes, aware of him being able to see her do so. He rarely takes the sort of risks that she does, granted he does on occasion, but this is the occasion where he wants to play it safe, and it couldn’t be the worse time. She would risk anything on the off chance that she can save Clint, he’s done it so many times for her, and seeing as nothing seems to be working here on Midgard, why not give Asgard a try?

 

“Natasha may be on to something.” Bruce interjects, everyone seems to turn to him, knowing he’s one of the brainiest people in the room, besides Stark, who, though he doesn’t always sound it, the guys a fucking genius. But Bruce speaks calmly, get’s straight to the point, which is why she trusts his judgement so much, no doubt the others do too. “You said yourself, Tony, that the wreckage was otherworldly.” He shrugs and pushes his glasses over his nose. “Maybe it’s not from Asgard, but we know that Asgardians know a hell of a lot more about other worlds than we do. And Captain, you said it looked like the work of HYDRA. While that’s very possible given the previous… happenings with SHIELD, you said that Loki’s sceptre was very much like a HYDRA weapon. Maybe they’re one in the same, Johann Schmidt was after the tesseract in 1942, right?”

 

“Right.” Steve replies quietly.

 

“I think they should go to Asgard.” Bruce says decidedly and turns to Thor. “If that’s okay with you.”

 

“Of course it is.” Thor mutters, and Natasha can see that he something else on his mind. She guesses it has something to do with Bruce mentioning his brother, the tesseract and the sceptre. Forever those weapons will be associated with him, and she can tell Thor hates to think of his brother as the villain, especially as he was one of the last to see him perform an act of heroism. “It is likely that Asgards healers will be able to help Clint, our medicines are far more advanced, if you pardon me saying so.”

 

“Hey, we don’t deny it.” Tony replies as he nonchalantly sips a drink, probably scotch.

 

“Banner, shall you come with us?” Thor asks. Bruce immediately takes a step back and holds up his hands defensively.

 

“Uhh, as much as I would love to… I wouldn’t want the ‘other guy’ breaking anything magical or ancient up there. But thanks.” He turns to Natasha and whispers. “Take some photo’s for me though.”

 

He winks and she smiles meekly up at him. Thor turns to the rest of them, his brows raised questioningly. “Anyone else?”

 

“No thanks, big guy. I’ve already been to outer space, not planning to make a repeat of that.” Tony takes another sip to take his mind from the memory, Natasha can’t blame him, even she was pretty shaken up from seeing him flying into that portal, she can’t imagine what it would have been like to actually be in his place.

 

“I’m still kind of adapting to the twenty-first century, going to a place that’s both medieval and yet far more advanced, well, lets just say that I’m not quite prepared. Maybe some other time, buddy.” Thor nods in understanding at Steve as he shoves his hands into his khaki pockets. He ignores Sam, probably because he had no idea who the guy is, and turns to Natasha.

 

“We should go soon.”

 

“You get Clint, I’ll meet you on the roof.” She lifts herself from her chair before any of the guys can lunge forward to help her, she doesn’t feel that fragile. She knows she should have asked to see Clint, to have sat by his side and held his hand or something sappy like that, but she knows he won’t hear her if she talks to him, he won’t feel her hand in his. He’s unconscious, like they said, and the only thing she can do is get him to Asgard as soon as possible, but first she needs to get dressed.

 

She finds her bag in the corner of her little makeshift hospital room, it’s in perfect condition, so she knows the blast didn’t go through her car. Her Corvette’s probably in flames as she stands there, but she knows she shouldn’t be worrying about a fucking car when Clint is dying in the other room. When she’s dressed she sits on her bed, already feeling weaker. She can feel the serum inside her, like a battle to fight whatever chemicals that bomb has exposed her to, but it’s losing. She staggers to the bathroom and splashes some water over her face, leaning over the basin with arms that only just hold her up. Her reflection frightens her, she’s seen herself in some pretty bad conditions, but this? They don’t even know what this was, and she can see that it’s making her sick. Her skin is pale, there’s a sickly green tint to it, her eyes are bloodshot, and still her vision is a little impaired. Her lips are dry and chapped, she looks like she’s been suffering for months, but this is only the effect of one day.

 

There’s a short crackle overhead, and Jarvis’ voice fills the small bathroom. “Ms Romanov, Thor is waiting for you on the front balcony.”

 

“Thanks.” She mutters and carefully steps towards the door.

 

Natasha finds them on the balcony, the space is large enough for the Bifrost to collect them, from what she can remember from when Thor dragged his little brothers ass back to Asgard two years ago. Thor stands in the centre, Clint held in his arms, he hangs there like he’s dead and she looks away, unable to look for much longer. From what she saw, however, she knows that Bruce wasn’t exaggerated when he said Clint was in terrible shape, in fact she thinks that was the understatement of the century. Tony, Steve, Sam and Bruce stand around them awkwardly.

“We must hurry, Natasha.” Thor calls as she staggers towards them. She gives him a look to say she’s fucking trying her best, she hates feeling like this, like a liability.

 

“We’ve taken the drip from Clint’s arm, it wasn’t doing much, but it was doing at least something.” Bruce steps forward and helps her get to where Thor stands. “He needs to get to those healing rooms, and fast. He can’t stay long without any medication.”

 

“Got it.” Natasha grunts as she leans on Thor’s side, She wraps an arm around him knowing she’s got to hold on as tight as she can, because Thor’s got his hands full already with Clint. She see’s him now, up close in Thor’s arms. His skin is scorched, beyond recognition, and where his skin is in tact, it holds the same greenish tint that hers does. “I’m ready.”

 

“Heimdall.” Thor calls immediately, and Bruce backs away quickly, unwilling to get caught up in the bifrost. “Heimdall, I need to come home.”

 

There’s a pause for a moment, it’s like hesitation. Thor looks up at the sky expectantly and whispers a ‘what?’ Natasha feels her heartbeat race in anticipation and nerves, she knows they don’t have much time, what the hell was this ‘Heimdall’ doing that was more important?

 

After a moment something begins to happen, the sky turns cloudy, there’s a flash of light and in a second she’s engulfed by it. Her hair whips around her wildly and she clings to Thor as they shoot upwards so fast all breath is knocked out of her. She see’s stars, galaxies and moons. It’s overwhelming for her in her state, but she forces herself to stay conscious, she can’t miss something like this.

 

It’s over in a flash, and she finds herself slipping from Thor, her body crashing into something hard and cold. She’s disorientated, her mind is whirling and it takes her a moment to realise that she merely fell onto a floor. The dizziness begins to fade, but she can already feel herself losing consciousness. She looks up just in time to see a man, large, dressed all in gold, with eyes that shine like amber. He leans over her, a curious expression on his dark features. Natasha hears Thor say something to him, and she feels an arm lift her up.

  
“Rest, Natasha.” It’s the last thing she hears.


End file.
